


the words we hold back(and the ones I long to say)

by Ace_SpookY



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Not Beta Read, Pro Volleyball Player Miya Atsumu, Pro Volleyball Player Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_SpookY/pseuds/Ace_SpookY
Summary: I first joined ao3 last year in October(10/23)!I wanted to get a fic out there about one of my favorite ships right now, SakuAtsu!----Sakusa always wants to reach out and brush golden locks back. Wants to run his hands gently under soft, undercut hair, and to be able to bear his feelings for everyone to see.Unfortunately, he does not have that luxury. He does not have that courage, has fear instead. Deep brown eyes watch him and analyze him, too well, all too well for his comfort.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 109





	the words we hold back(and the ones I long to say)

Sakusa always wants to reach out and brush golden locks back. Wants to run his hands gently under soft, undercut hair, and to be able to bear his feelings for everyone to see. 

Unfortunately, he does not have that luxury. He does not have that courage, has fear instead. Deep brown eyes watch him and analyze him, too well, all too well for his comfort. 

He still wants to reach out and just once, maybe k-

He regrets even thinking of it as he receives a ball spiked towards him by Bokuto. It hurt his wrists slightly, but the sting was welcome. It drilled the thoughts he should be thinking into his head. Things like how best to receive the ball, how to be an all-around player, how to spike or to set. Yet even still, his eyes traveled to a blonde setter with eyes deep and so chocolatey soft. It was unbearable. 

The soft feelings, the pittering of his chest...

It was always too much for him to take. For him to sit aside and watch as the person he wanted to be close to always seemed to keep advancing without him. 

Yet when Atsumu delicately reached out, his hand sanitized and clean after their practice, he would always link just their pinkies together. 

Flustered, he'd always adjust his mask, whilst Atsumu looked at him and laughed. 

It wasn't a large, grander than life laugh that he had on the court. It wasn't with a victorious smile. 

Rather, a laugh that spoke of soft compliments, gazes that would linger, eyes that spoke in colors and fondness. 

A smile that spoke of fondness, one that was shown to only those who were cared about. One that was gentle, waiting. One that old him-

One that told him of a promise, a promise of waiting for forever until he was ready to say or speak of those soft feelings festering in his chest. 

Atsumu doesn't pressure him to say it, but says it all the time, speaks his feelings into existence, saying words that are as soul-crushing as they are sweet. 

He says it and Sakusa doesn't respond. Instead, he averts his eyes and gives a curt nod, his pinkie delicately curled against his own. 

Another laugh lets him relax a little. Less pressured. Less tense at not being able to whisper the same thing back, not yet, too soon. 

He promises he'll do it one day. He swears he will. It's hard. 

But he hides a small smile when they both go home, shower, and share a meal with one another. Of course, minding their own spaces, they sit across the table from one another. Six feet apart. 

Sakusa knows it must be hard for Atsumu, but he also knows personal space is as important to Atsumu as it is to Sakusa. 

Atsumu probably doesn't like feeling like someone is clinging onto him. After all, Sakusa's observed that how Bokuto acts makes Atsumu irritated. When they were younger and not all on the same team, Bokuto got mopey so easily. Should Atsumu have been there in his High School days, he would have lost his temper. 

Bokuto no longer needs this supervision, which is good. But Sakusa knows Atsumu doesn't want to feel chained to something. He wants to feel like he can stay if he wants, if it's good for him. 

Sakusa feels a soft something in his chest. Fuzzy, sweet, soft, textured to make him feel warm. He doesn't say it. 

Maybe Atsumu does feel chained to him? If he's just sticking around for the game, for their bickering, for- 

Atsumu, from across the table is still picking at his vegetables, pouting. His words interrupt his thoughts. "Omi, should I have steamed the vegetables more? Samu gave me directions for a stew, and I thought it would be easy." He glanced up and tilted his head slightly. "...Yer starin' at the food intently? Is it that bad?" 

Sakusa scrambles to collect his thoughts, letting out a soft sigh as he adjusted his Hoodie. 

Not his Hoodie. 

It's Atsumu's, actually. 

"Ah, no. It's good. Vegetables are a bit crunchy. Maybe we should have steamed the carrots more." 

Atsumu bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, looking at a carrot stuck on Sakusa's fork. He frowned. "Knew it." He shook his head, disappointed. "But you look so sad? Or brooding." He shrugged. "Your eyes tell it all. What's bugging ya?" 

Sakusa glanced over, startled. Was it really that apparent? Was his face that expressive? 

Atsumu watched him quietly and smiled triumphantly. "Knew it. I've been observing ya for years, and you've always got that mask on. Learned how to tall yer emotions with yer mask on. All in the eyes and eyebrows, Omi." He teased. "Tell me what's goin' on." 

Sakusa glanced away and picked at a piece of tender meat, watching the fork delicately pierce through. "...Do you feel tired of me, Miya? Like you're chained down to me? I can't even say my emotions the way you can." He admitted, grudgingly, his voice quieter than he'd like to admit. 

Atsumu blinked slowly, a frown coming to his face. "You think I'd be living in the same apartment as you if I didn't feel like stayin' around? Omi." He leaned back and sighed. "I'm not gonna dismiss yer feelings, y'know. I tried doing that with Samu, did not work. I should listen to what yer feeling instead of calling ya silly...But even still, you do know that I'm not that person, yeah?" 

Sakusa flinched lightly. "Not...that person?" 

Atsumu tilted his head. "I'm not tired of you. How could I be? Yer literally amazing." He motioned. "You're interested in the things I am, and you listen to me! You may be a little bit of a clean-freak, but that's because you have OCD. I'm not gonna blame ya." He frowned. "Even if we butt heads, I'm not gonna up and leave ya. I'm not chained here either, you hear? I wanna be honest." 

Sakusa was again shocked, swallowing quietly. He thumbed at his glass of water, watching a bead of water slowly drip down into the carved wooden table. "Why are you still around, is what I'm asking." He said simply, his voice getting quieter still. His hand reached to his gloves, adjusting the slightly smaller hoodie to fit his frame. 

Atsumu sighed, his voice soft and yet still exasperated. He took a gentler tone, his eyes spying how he fidgeted. 

"Omi, I like you, is that hard to believe?" 

One beat. 

Another. 

His heart thundered against his chest, aching for him to reach out. Hug him, maybe. After all, he'd never- 

He had never hugged Atsumu before. Nor kissed. They'd been seemingly together in this weird tango, this push and pull, for a year, and yet, Atsumu was still around. Still saying he liked him- 

His heart was caught in his throat. 

Atsumu smiled lightly. "Did it finally hit ya, Omi? After us living together? After waiting after practice every day since we moved in together and walking home together?" 

Sakusa glared. "Cann it, Miya!" 

Atsumu let out a breathless laugh, relieved, boisterous. 

A laugh that sadly, Sakusa adored. 

Sakusa surged forward, setting his fork down, darting from his side of the table to Atsumu's. 

Atsumu flinched and waved his hands. "Oi, Omi, wait! I'm not six feet away, ya can't come here, I don't have a mask, and neither do you, and what if I make ya catch a cold from lack of exposure-" 

Sakusa shut him up, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Atsumu, resting his head gently on his shoulders, his arms lightly shaking. "I-I wanted to tell you. Give me more time. I will, maybe. Eventually. Stay a bit longer, please." 

Atsumu tilted his head, shocked. His face was a bright shade of pink before he gently wrapped his arms back around Sakusa, just as gentle as when he took his pinkie delicately with his. 

"As long as you need me to, Omi." He whispered. 

Soft hands fiddled with blonde locks. They were soft.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! 
> 
> Come yell at me on Twitter! 
> 
> https://twitter.com/Spooookyy_?s=09
> 
> @Spooookyy_


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